


Aramis

by gr8escap



Series: Outer Peace [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Recovering, Dogs, F/M, Gen, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prosthesis, Service Dogs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-12 02:09:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7080352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gr8escap/pseuds/gr8escap
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Please take a moment and let me know what you think - comments are inspirational :)</p></blockquote>





	Aramis

Dizzy curled into Karrie, nosing her chin as she cried. Bucky woke covered in sweat, his throat raw from screaming. Neither knew this about the other as they dragged themselves out of their respective beds and forced themselves to dress for a run to work through their nightmares.

In Bucky's apartment, he quietly let the malamutes out of their crates, and took them along on his run, something he hoped would put the empty dream somewhere other than looming over him. He had nightmares often, usually they had a face, or more accurately, many faces. The empty dreams felt like terror and pain and misery but had nothing tangible. At first Bucky thought they were just nightmares you couldn’t remember when you woke up, but over time, he started to suspect that they weren’t. He felt as though he was suspended in the dark emptiness alone to yell and scream for help that would never come. He started to believe that it was a subconscious interpretation of being in cryo, frozen.

Karrie had the same dream over and over, it was always about the IED that took her arm and had also taken her friends. She didn’t scream when it happened, she watched the men she’d played games with and had drinks with and fought alongside lose their lives and she didn’t cry. She came out of the hospital and she still didn’t cry. When she woke to Dizzy’s gentle nudges crying for the first time since the incident, she buried her face in his scarred neck and continued to sob. Now, running alongside the joy-filled pit bull she could think about Ben and Patrick and “E”. If they could, they’d be calling her out on the hiding she’d been doing from the world. And oh how each one of them would have loved this dog.

She’d named Dizzy in their honor. The first time she’d been assigned to work with them, Ernesto, “E” had been complaining to Ben, “I don’t want to work with no dizzy dame.” Ben gave him shit for his outdated language. and then they'd both straightened up when they saw her. She acted like she didn’t hear them but when it came time to work, she’d teamed up with Patrick to make sure they got the shit detail.

“Not so dizzy after all, fellas?” she’d smiled and sauntered away. Patrick had been the one to continue calling her Dizzy, putting the name on all of her belongings, and she thought the name seemed to be appropriate for the dog that would help her with her demons.

In the middle of the park, Bucky stopped running to pour some water for his two dogs. They stood, panting while he poured, and then lapped up the water like it was the last water in the desert. Suddenly he heard yelling and the jingling of tags on a collar coming straight at him. The one thought that hit him was almost as heart-stopping as his nightmare, his babies were going to get attacked by some loose dog.

He turned to see the lumbering animal making a beeline for his dogs and stepped between them. Then he saw Karrie, behind the dog in the distance, she was holding the leash in her hand and supporting her fallen prosthetic against her ribcage, running after the dog. “Don’t hurt him, he’s ok I promise.” She was near tears.

“Dizzy!” he snapped, recognizing the dog from their walk earlier in the week, “Sit.” The dog skidded to a halt in front of him and parked it on the ground. “Karrie, are you ok?”

“Yeah, oh god I’m glad it was you.” She sighed. He held a hand out to her in an offer to take the leash and she got defensive.

“Listen, Karrie. You have one good arm and one fake one, face it.” He said, without remorse. “I’m not coddling you to offer help. Let me put the leash on the dog.”

“I’m sorry. I just hate when people get too…”

“Too close. You want to be all by yourself, and wallow.”

“Fuck you.” She spat.

“How’d you get loose Dizz?” Bucky asked the dog as he crouched in front of him, securing the leash. “You’re not employee of the month material when you do shit like that you big dork.”

Karrie was a little put out by the fact that she was so easily dismissed. She angrily adjusted her prosthesis, struggling in the process.

“If you’re not going to let anyone get too close, to help you, then you might want to try calming down a little. Your anger is impeding your success.” Bucky suggested as he scratched Dizzy behind the ear and watched his dogs circle Dizzy curiously.

He stood up and stepped back, holding the leashes to all three dogs while they all sniffed every inch of one another, even the embarrassing zones. Dizzy did a little happy dance and a play bow showing he was eager to play, and Bucky’s two malamutes were just as eager to reward his request. Bucky let them romp a little, somewhat to spite the frustrated glare he was receiving and partially because he was entitled to this little bit of joy after that shitty nightmare-wake up call.

“Dizzy’s supposed to be working.” Karrie said haughtily.

“I know, but even slaves get a short respite. Huh Dizz? Do you want some help?” he asked her, knowing the answer before it came at him.

“No _thank you._ I can manage. I have to be able to manage.”

“You also have to know when to ask for help. Did you n _ever_ ask for help with  _anything_ before you lost your arm?”

“Of course I did, if I _needed_ help.” Karrie retorted.

“Well, you certainly don’t need help now.” He said sarcastically, nodding to her continued difficulty.

“I’m just looking foraward to the better prosthesis, this thing is a struggle on a good day, and judging by the way things are going, this is _not_ a good day.”

“It’s an adequate day. Look at these fine creatures frolicking in the warm sunshine while the birds are singing and you’re grunting.” He tried to tease her.

“Fine, you think you can do any better?!” Karrie gave up in a huff.

“It’s not about better or worse, it’s about getting something done that you need done.” Bucky tucked the leashes between his knees and took the offered harness for the prosthetic, “I’ve done this a total of once for someone else, so don’t judge my skills too harshly, ok?” he smiled at her.

She looked up at him through the veil of her lashes and he saw tears welling. “Don’t tell anyone I couldn’t even manage to do this.”

“You do it every day. You had one little mishap and got all flustered, people of all shapes and sizes and abilities get flustered. What happened anyway?” he asked, paying close attention to what he was doing in order to avoid having her feel watched, and to give her what peace of mind he could.

“Dizzy got hung up around a post because I wasn’t paying attention, I guess I tried to stabilize the leash with both arms to get him untangled, and the arm got pulled askew, to make matters worse, I must not have gotten his leash securely fastened to his collar and it came loose when he tugged so he took off. I screwed so much up in one brief moment.”

“Nothing’s screwed up. Dizzy’s safe, his leash is secure, and he’s made Athos and Porthos very happy. We're getting you squared away now.” He finished, “See? Good as new.”

She cried on him, buried her face in his shoulder, and cried. “I’m never going to be as good as new.”

“Oh, of course not." Bucky answered when she looked up at him, "You’ll be better than new, because one day you will be able to help someone else do something they can’t manage at the very minute when they need the help. One day, you’ll be able to tell people they will be ok. If I can do this for you, I know you can too, someday.”

“Don’t tell anyone I said this, but thank you Bucky.”

“I’m not going to tell a soul you’re even remotely nice.” He frowned at her. “Everyone who knows who you are would think I’d lost my mind.”

“You’re a prick.”

“Yeah.” He laughed.

“Musketeers, huh? You’re missing one?”

“Nope, I’m the third. Steve called us the three musketeers when I brought these two home, so I just named them appropriately.”

"And you think you're Artemis?" She _almost_ smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> Please take a moment and let me know what you think - comments are inspirational :)


End file.
